Hello to my beautiful readers! Thank you to all my reviewers who left such kind words regarding the last chapter. You all inspire me to write so much more. This chapter is dedicated to you! Please enjoy! :)) And forgive the bad spelling/grammar, as I was feeling a little lazy again today regarding the rereads.


Chapter XVI

Bucky was confused, to say the least. Possibly, because digging up a ghost from his past during a war wasn't necessarily ideal.

It had taken him far too long to realize who exactly Lucy Heinrich was and how he had known` her. There had always been the tingling sense of familiarity that had pricked at the back of his brain since the moment he first saw her. However, he had just thought that it was always a migraine from how annoying she was.

Never in a million years would he guess that that demanding, bossy, maniacal, and menacing woman was the same person he had met three years prior.

Lucy had been so sweet and kind that night a couple of summers ago. She had not acted even close to how she treated him in the last couple of weeks. But in the moments where she wasn't making his life a living hell, he saw flashes of the woman he had known.

Her small smile when she giggled was the same. And as they joked as she lay on the ground, bleeding out, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that she was the girl that he had obsessed over for so long.

Bucky had a never-ending rush of emotions for the last two days. After she had been taken to the medical ward, he could only sit down with his head in his hands as he tried to make sense of it all. The shock had hit him, hard. He could only think of how he had no idea who she was for so long.

The thing that bothered him the most was after all those years of trying to find her in every woman he had been with, she was right in front of him and he hadn't even noticed. Not only that, but they hated one another. He was so driven by his blinding distaste for her, that if he looked at her and had a real conversation, he would have been able to tell who she was.

But he didn't, and he was set on disliking her. His dislike and their bickering had wasted the few moments of precious time that they had. And instead of fighting, he could have been trying to get to know her. The real her— Lucy Heinrich, not Emma, which she told him was her name when they first met. He smirked as he thought back to the memory of their meeting. He had suspected that she had used a fake name, given the fact it had taken her so long to tell him what it was. He never knew why she used a fake name, and never cared to ask after she told it to him. He figured it was her own business, and he wouldn't pressure her to reveal it to him.

He thought of the way she looked while she stood on the sidewalk with him, a cigarette between her red, perfect lips. Bucky recalled how she told him her name and he had called her out on it immediately, telling her he knew it was fake, making her laugh.

That laugh and giggle, the memory of it plucking his brain were embedding into it now. And when he had seen Lucy for the first time again, he saw the remnants of the beautiful woman back in New York. Sure, her face was a little dirty, and she had done nothing with her hair, and she didn't have any makeup on and she was wearing a man's uniform. But from the moment she exited the truck, Bucky was still struck by her beauty.

He remembered gazing at her across the bar all those years ago and telling Steve "See that girl?" And then, the quick few beats of his heart raced when he saw her laugh, "I'm gonna marry her."

Boy, how wrong he had been. And Bucky would have kicked himself three years ago had he known how they had treated one another since they had seen each other again. Granted, all the hostility had been well deserved. She had been a bitch, and he had been an ass.

But after seeing her lying on the ground, bleeding out, Bucky was struck with fear. He didn't know why, since it was clear he did not know her at all. But if she had died without him even attempting to patch things up between them, he would have gone insane.

Since seeing her, the infatuation he had once felt for her had long faded. Especially since he was struck with the notion that she was indeed, very different than what he pictured in his head. But for some reason, despite their bickering and fighting, he had - no, he needed to know she was alright. And, there was still a shroud of hope still left in him, that perhaps she was the same woman that he had met on that summer night all those years ago. Who had danced with him in the street, and revealed intimate parts of herself to him. She had been the woman who he wanted more than anything, and now that she was in his grasp… Bucky couldn't let her go.

He felt a connection to her that drew him in. And even though they still weren't on the best of terms, he had to see her. He may not have still been an infatuated young man who had feelings for her, but that didn't mean that he wasn't at least concerned about her well being.

Bucky ran a hand through his slightly messy hair as he had approached the medical ward. He had tried to clean himself up to the best he could in case she was awake. He wasn't sure why he cared so much. After all, he wasn't there to win her affections. He didn't have any leftover feelings for her, did he? No, he knew deep down that his romanticized notions of what could have been weighed over what was, and he knew the answer to the question before it even popped into his brain.

And besides, he continued to rationalize that she had been engaged the last time they had met. That had been three years ago. The reality was that she was probably married now. And for some reason, that thought caused a knot to form in Bucky's stomach and he couldn't even explain why.

Once he had got to the infirmary tent, he gently approached, almost skeptical of whether or not he should be there. No one asked him what he was looking for, and no one paid him any attention. Except for a pretty nurse, who stood over Lucy's bed, looking concerned. They made eye contact as he approached her beside. Immediately, seeing Lucy lying there, Bucky's heart clenched.

She looked peaceful, despite the fact she had IV's hooked up to her, and various scratches and bruises on her face. Blood bags were also attached to her, pumping back in what she lost several days before.

"How's she holding up?" Bucky asked the nurse, scared of what he would hear. He wanted to roll his eyes at himself for feeling that way. It shouldn't have mattered that much to him whether or not she was okay. But for some reason, it just did.

The nurse smiled at him, "She'll be fine, thankfully." Upon hearing those words, Bucky felt like he could finally breathe. Relief flooded over him, and he only nodded as he took in what she said, "Are you a friend of hers?"

"Umm, not really." He answered honestly, "I just ah, - I was just…" What was he doing there, exactly? "I just wanted to check on her." He finally settled on, "You know, make sure she was alright and stuff."

The nurse nodded, and she smirked ever so slightly at how the soldiers' eyes kept glancing to where Lucy was laying on the bed. He was much more than just concerned, that was for sure. With a playful grin as she saw what was happening, the nurse finally spoke. "Well, if you need anything, my name is Elsa. I'll leave you two alone for a bit." A glimmer of mischief sparkled in her eyes, and Bucky found himself confused by her tone. He never would fully understand dames, that was for sure.

Bucky muttered a thank you, as he suddenly was left as alone as he could be with Lucy. There was, of course, a bunch of other patients. Some were screaming in pain, and nurses rushing all over the place, but it was as good as it was going to get to being private.

He noticed how there was a chair already placed by Lucy's cot. Obviously, she had other visitors coming and going as well. Bucky felt a twinge of jealousy in his stomach at the thought of that. Although, again, he rationalized there was no reason to be.

When he rounded her cot and finally was there closer to her, he wasn't positive she could even hear him as she was lying there sleeping. He decided to speak to her anyway, saying with a small smile as he sank into the chair "Hey, doll." Bucky said, almost hoping she would snap awake from the pet name he knew she hated so much. "Or, I guess Doctor." He sighed, giving in to her stubborn nature of always wanting to be addressed by her proper title.

He looked at her and crossed his arms over his chest. Her hair was greasy and matted, her skin sunken in and pale. A light coat of sweat rested on her brow, and a small yellow bruise laid under her eye. Another scratch lined the side of her other cheek, and Bucky couldn't help but sigh as he stared at her with concern. He felt something ache inside him at seeing her in such a state. "I'm not gonna lie to you, sweetheart." He began, "You look like shit."

But as he stared at Lucy, he felt unable to rip his gaze away from her. He never noticed she had some small freckles on her cheekbones, and how her long eyelashes touched her pale skin as she laid there sleeping. Bucky exhale deeply and moved forward, unable to tear his eyes off her for even a moment.

He brushed some hair out of her face, the tips of his fingers trailing over her skin ever so lightly. Her skin was damp with a light sheen of sweat, but Bucky didn't mind. "Alright, you caught me." He huffed as he sat back down, frustrated he couldn't even keep thinking there was one small moment where she wasn't attractive in his eyes. "You're always pretty. It's getting to be annoying."

More silence from her. Which Bucky figured he should be grateful for. Mainly, because she was slightly vexing. But also if she heard him calling her pretty, she would get that stupid, smug smile on her face which would irritate him to his core.

He hoped she couldn't hear him. But regardless, Bucky continued talking to her. Much like the night they had first met, he found it so easy just to talk to her. Especially now, when she wasn't awake to make any smart-ass comments.

"Thought I'd come visit you because it's been several days since I've had anyone really bark any orders at me." He told her as he leaned forward again, trying to detect any trace that she could hear him. Nothing reflected on her face, only stillness and blankness was present in her expression. "I mean, I get orders all the time but nothing like from the infamous Dr. Heinrich." He chuckled, thinking of when she used to boss him around.

At first, he had been annoyed at her insistent barking of orders. But after a while, he realized, in the male part of his brain which never made much sense, that he was more attracted to her when she was domineering. Nothing both annoyed him and turned him on more than when she told him to shut the fuck up. At that moment, he almost started to want her to make him.

Though he snapped out of that thought process almost immediately as it ran through his head back in the cavern.

The fact that his attraction was so irrational annoyed him. Then again, if he was thinking with his 'other head' when was it ever rational? It didn't make much sense that he still thought her attractive when she was mean to him, but Bucky didn't dwell on that. He figured it had just been so long that he had been in the company of a female that any type of attention, regardless of good or bad, was enough for him.

Swallowing thickly and trying to distract himself, he started talking again, "I've been trying to make sure your reputation precedes you as being scary. Figured you'd appreciate it. That way no other fellas like me give you a hard time." He rubbed his knuckles, guilt racking through him at the thought of more people undermining her due to his part that he had played.

The fact that Gilbert Whitney repeated to Lucy that Bucky called her a heinous bitch also didn't sit right with him. He felt awful that he had said such terrible things, especially since she was now injured and unawake. Her assistant had also heard the negative things Bucky had said, and although he had meant them at the time; perhaps he was a little harsh on her.

After all, even though she was bleeding out their last interaction, she had managed to tease him. They laughed even, and as he looked down at her it became pretty clear that she was the same woman as he had met before. More grown-up and cynical, but the same regardless.

"Although," he said skeptically, "I'm pretty sure if anyone tried to mess with you you'd chew them out." He chuckled as he thought about their last interaction before the bombing and how he had punished Whitney for disrespecting her. Whitney had scowled and whined the entire time he had cleaned the latrines. Bucky had joined him as well, taking his share of the punishment that he doled out.

"You shoulda seen Whitney. He was cursing the both of us under his breath. I was actually worried for a second that he'd try to drown me in there" Bucky cringed just thinking about it. "But you told him what was what. Heard all about that later with some other fellas'. Apparently, most of them are scared shitless of you now, so I don't think you'll be bothered too much from here on out."

Bucky swallowed again and leaned forward so he could peacefully speak to her. "I uhh, I know I gave you a hard time too. And I just wanted to say that I'm sorry again for the way I acted. I honestly don't even really know what came over me, but I was just so mad at you." He licked his lips and continued explaining. "I had just finished fighting, and I could still smell the blood in the air that had been split. And here you come barreling in and ordering me around. I was just a little sore about it all," He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. He felt more like he was talking to himself than to her at that point.

"And believe me, if it were any other circumstances, I would have been much more pleasant. You just got me at a bad time. But I mean, you're still kinda a pain in the ass. But you're smart and pretty, like I already mentioned. And you don't take bullshit, which I respect. And you… You seem good to talk to. To be honest, I haven't been feeling like myself lately. This war is just… " He trailed off and looked at her before leaning down, his voice faltering. He could feel himself take in a shaky intake of breath, as nerves and anxiety began to form in his chest. "If I tell you this you better not hold it against me…" He repeated what she said to him the other day.

Thinking of Abe Anderson, and how he had died a few days ago finally dawned on him. Bucky felt himself began to well up with tears for the first time since he joined the war. He coughed to try to stop himself, but his vision began to seem like it was swimming. Lucy had mentioned how scared she was when she was bleeding out. Bucky said he also was, but he had thought he only was scared at the moment. Now, he realized it was constant. "I'm just really scared too. All the time. I feel like I'm losing little pieces of myself every single goddamn day. " Was all that Bucky could whisper. He licked his lips and tried to regain his composure a little more, shifting awkwardly in his seat and hoping that no one around him saw his brief moment of weakness.

"But anyway," He clapped his hands on his knees as he tried to distract himself from the vulnerability he had just shown her; even though she wasn't awake to see it. "How much longer are you gonna be asleep, huh Sleeping Beauty? You're missing all the action, you know. I'm sure there's some dirt around here you'd love to play in or some art you'd want to steal eventually. Maybe I could erm," He coughed, clearing his throat as he couldn't believe the next words that came out of his mouth, "Maybe I could even help you? I'll try not to be as much of a dick, but there are no promises. But, if you boss me around too much I'm going to deny that I ever offered." He warned her, pointing an accusing finger at her despite the fact she didn't know what was going on.

Bucky sat there for a moment, saying nothing. He just kept watching her sleep, now feeling an overwhelming need to protect her. Seeing her in the dirt, blood seeping out of her wound as she screamed in agony was nothing he ever wanted to see. When he had first gotten to her after the bomb fell he thought Lucy's injury was much worse than it was. After all, he had seen men with everything that was supposed to be inside of them on the outside, their guts spilling out of the empty cavities that were their bodies.

When he realized it was only shrapnel his relief washed over him. That was until she yanked the damn thing right out of her side. It caused her blood to flow out at a very rapid rate and made Bucky madly panic. He should have yelled at her for doing something so stupid, but he couldn't bring himself to do it even if he tried.

"You could have died." He said almost accusingly, crossing his arms over his chest. Bucky then pursed his lips together, still looking at her before changing his tone to something softer, "Except I think we both know you're way too stubborn to die."

He had the urge to brush more hair out of her face. Instead, he kept his arms crossed against his chest, no matter how much he wanted to reach out and touch her. He couldn't believe that after three years, he had finally found her. And he hated himself for hating her.

Bucky leaned forward more so his elbows were resting on the side of her bed. One of his hands could feel the stubble growing back on his cheeks as he rubbed his skin nervously.

"You might not believe this or remember," He started telling her, "But you and I have actually met before all this. It was in New York, about three years ago. I walked into a bar, looked across it and saw this dame who… Holy shit. I can't even describe the way you made me feel. You took my goddamn breath away." He chuckled ever so slightly at the faint memory, "You were taking shots or something and laughing. I just thought 'oh, here we go' because I knew you were gonna knock me right off my feet." Bucky looked down and snorted at how ironic and insane the whole situation that they were in was. "I asked you to dance and you said maybe. All while my heart was pounding in my chest harder than it probably ever had. To you, it was probably nothing. But to a guy who didn't know what life had in store for him, and was unsure of himself… I don't know. You were just there when I needed you." He finally admitted all the things to her that he had wanted to say over the years. Some of the things he hadn't even admitted to himself until that moment.

Out of instinct, he grasped her hand gently. His thumb ran over her slightly clammy skin. At the brief moment of physical contact, he saw her eyelids twitch as if she were trying to wake up but physically couldn't. His stomach dropped just a little after seeing her like that.

He ran his thumb gently over her palm, remembering how it felt when she had drawn little patterns on the back of his neck as they danced.

Bucky's heart raced more just thinking about it. Thinking how they danced together and how it felt to hold her tightly in his arms. How badly he wanted to touch his lips to hers, and how long it had taken him to get her out of his head. He recalled how she smiled as he made bad jokes, and how she didn't seem to mind just swaying there with no music. Everything felt so right in those previous few moments. And for the last three years, Bucky had been searching for that same feeling in every girl he had gone out with.

"You were a tough one to get over, I'll tell ya that much." He exhaled deeply as he sat back, removing his hand from her as a thought came rushing back to him. Sadness etched inside him for some reason that he couldn't comprehend, and Bucky spoke lowly, "I tried looking for you in every single girl I saw. For years, I was searching for the same feeling that you gave me in fifteen minutes. And my guess is that you went home that night to your fiancé and didn't give me a single thought after that." The words hurt as they left. Bucky knew it was undeniably true. "Meanwhile, the stupid shmuck that I am, was pining for you all along. Hoping that someday we'll run into each other somewhere and everything would just work out."

He had hoped that for so long. But now that it happened, they had bickered and hated one another. He chuckled at the thought, "Who would have known that there'd have to be a war just for me see you again."

His eyes flashed down to the hand he had just been holding. Bucky noticed she was no longer wearing the diamond ring that he had seen that night. He wondered if she had taken it off for safekeeping. "Anyway, you're probably married now. So even if things were different and we weren't at each other's throats, I still wouldn't have a shot with you." As reality set in, Bucky felt even more heartbroken than before. They were never meant to be, and he almost found himself wishing that he had never met her that night.

As he was about to open his mouth to say something else, a strange voice erupted behind him, "What are you doing?" It asked accusingly.

Bucky turned around to see Lucy's assistant standing there. His jaw was clenched and his fists balled tightly. He looked on edge by his presence, and Bucky stood up as Charles moved forward. His eyes glanced from the bed back to him, watching the scene skeptically. His nostrils flared in anger, his eyes blazing with rage.

Feeling shame and knowing that Charles had overheard his conversation with his comrades a few days earlier, Bucky answered "I just came to see how she was doing," Charles looked at him blankly, "I just feel bad that she got hurt after how things were between us."

"Cut the bullshit," The man spat out hatefully, anger reflecting even deeper in his eyes.

Bucky wasn't intimidated by the smaller man. Given the fact that he had several inches on him, Charles looked to me more of an academic than the athletic type. He had a very unthreatening presence, but something about the way he spoke made Bucky know that he meant business. "I heard you speaking about her a couple of weeks ago. You don't give a damn about what happens to her."

Closing his eyes in frustration, Bucky almost groaned in annoyance with himself, "That was before. You're wrong now because I do care about what happens to her."

Charles' expression still reflected anger and he scoffed. His nostrils flared in and out, and it was obvious to Bucky that he didn't believe him for even one second, "You think that I don't see what's going on?"

Bucky looked at the man in pointed confusion, waiting for him to explain. There was silence for a little while, and Bucky was expecting Charles to continue. Pursing his lips and giving him another pressing look to urge him onto what he was going to say, Bucky could see the man still didn't get his drift.

"What's—what's going on?" Bucky finally had to ask, seeing the man didn't seem to understand his confusion.

"That you're trying to win that bet with your arsehole friends!" Charles stated as if it should have been obvious. Bucky still had no idea what he was talking about. He cocked an eyebrow, looking at the man as if he had grown another head.

Charles huffed in frustration and rolled his eyes, almost emitting a small growl, "Really? You're going to play dumb? You're really going to try that?"

Bucky couldn't help but chuckle as he ran a hand through his hair and confidently said, "I don't know what to tell you, pal! I have no idea what you're talking about." His cocky expression slowly changed as Charles scowled and came forward, poking a finger into his chest.

"You listen to me. You self-absorbed, despicable, low-life, little prick—,"

Bucky immediately frowned and interrupted him, smacking his hand from poking him, "Alright buddy, let's just take it easy!" The little man was fuming at Bucky's nonchalant attitude.

"If you come near Dr. Heinrich... If you look at her, if you speak to her, if you do much as breathe in her general direction, I will see it as my duty to make your life miserable." He sneered as he poked him in the chest again.

"Wait, who are you again?" Was all Bucky could stupidly say, frowning and rubbing his chest where Charle's had poked him, "You're her guard dog or something?"

"I'm her assistant!" The man exclaimed loudly, baffled that he wasn't already aware of the fact. "And I will not let you compromise our mission here! And I won't let you or your abhorrent friends make wagers on who can get into her knickers first!"

Confusion flashed across Bucky's face when all of a sudden it dawned on him. He brought a hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out a frustrated breath, "What?" Bucky still didn't know what he was talking about, but he'd bet any money that Gilbert Whitney was behind it all.

"I said I overheard the bet that you and your comrades made, and you're not fooling anyone. So get out now, and leave both of us alone." Charles said seriously, his tone even and cold.

Bucky only nodded, his jaw clenched as he realized he'd have to have a little chat with Whitney later on.

Charles's eyes followed him out of the infirmary, he could feel him glaring daggers into his back as he left. Before he completely exited, Bucky turned back before asked, "What are the chances of you letting her know I stopped by?"

Charles had his arms crossed, "Slim to none."

Bucky sighed finally, his voice low and harsh before looking back at Lucy one more time, "I figured as much."


Lucy wasn't positive if she dreamt of anyone or anything in particular.

Mostly, she drifted in and out of consciousness, feeling as though she were a wave on the ocean. Her body hurt, and her throat felt as though she gargled with glass. Everything was raw, and it felt as though she hadn't had water in a year.

The one thing she did dream of slightly was the desert. In her morphine stupor, she dreamt that she had been back on a camel. It wasn't a memory, but rather something her mind cooked up.

She had only seen a camel once before working in Egypt. Daniel has taken her to the zoo in Paris, and they had eaten peanuts and cotton candy as they walked around. There was a small camel there, and Lucy looked at it with joy, thinking perhaps she would get the chance to ride one day.

Daniel told her of course and kissed her head. He didn't believe she actually would though, and Lucy knew it at the time. But they continued walking anyway, their sticky fingers intertwined.

She had ridden a camel. She had ridden one as she was shot at, after stealing an artifact. It was one of the first times she had stolen straight from the Nazis. And if Daniel could have seen her, he wouldn't have even recognized her. She wore men's cargo pants, with a white long-sleeved shirt, a pistol on her hip, and a red and white headscarf, a kaffiyeh, to keep her hair away from her face and her head cool.

She had come a long way from pearls, diamonds, dresses, and red lipstick.

Lucy barely remembered what it was like to dress and feel like a woman. She always loved being feminine and taking the time to look pretty. She was proud of her womanhood, but that didn't mean she wanted to be a woman all the time. Especially since she realized just how hard it was for women to make in professional fields.

She had never been believed in. But she had proved them all wrong.

She had gone across the desert on a camel for days. Running out of water, and eating crickets to stay alive the sun had burnt her skin until it was red, angry, and peeling. But she survived, and she would do it again.

Lucy wasn't afraid of what awaited her. Not really. Not until that moment as she slept in a bed in the infirmary, hearing muffled voices and men crying out in pain.

She dreamt of the desert, of it swallowing her. She dreamt of the sand moving through time and space and all matter and consuming her. She thought of it burying her alive, and her body decaying and rotting, and being feasted on by the bugs and creatures that lived and thrived off of her flesh.

She thought of dryness and how nothing could grow, or live, or prosper. As she slept, her mind drifted to those few things, and those few things only. There were no pleasant memories of the way her mother braided her hair and kissed her forehead goodnight. She remembered nothing of sleeping in a small bed with her sisters. She didn't remember Mr. Lee's warm smile or the way Mrs. Lee cried at her graduation.

She didn't remember the feel of Daniel's lips. Or the way his hand used to find hers as they slept.

She remembered nothing of Margaret Whiting's My Ideal, as the music filled her ears from a turntable off in the distance. There was no flutter in her chest, as there was the last time she heard it.

There was only darkness. And the feeling of which follows after she looked at the desert for the first time, and saw nothing and heard nothing for miles, and miles, and miles, on end.

It was emptiness.

And it terrified her more than death itself.

Because what came after? Was there any form of an afterlife? Or was it that empty void, that she had peered out of, and saw continue on and on, having no end.

Oblivion.

But there was something, she realized as she slept.

The gentle coolness of wet cloth on her forehead, a womanly whisper. A careful touch of someone who time and time again, had done those very actions.

There was the heavy breathing, of a male companion who spoke in a soft English accent.

Then, a foreign feeling. Of someone resting beside her, and grasping her hand as she slept. She didn't know who, but she could feel the calluses of their overworked hands. She felt comfort, knowing she wasn't alone. Her heartbeat a little faster in her chest in those few moments. She liked it, as it proved she was alive.

Perhaps that void Lucy was drifting off in wasn't so big and terrifying and all-consuming as had she thought.

When she awoke, she almost thought she was in a hospital back at home. Not Paris, and certainly not Chicago; but New York, her real home.

But there wasn't any white walls and nurses walking around in all-white outfits. She was in an infirmary tent, and the nurse's uniforms were stained with blood.

Lucy felt herself almost go back asleep, but her throat was so dry and so sore that she didn't think she could sleep even if she wanted to.

A beautiful but tired face appeared in her vision. Elsa Hardy, her tentmate and friend, looked pissed.

"You idiot!" She hissed as tears welled in her eyes, "Do you know how worried I was about you?!"

Lucy couldn't help but crack a smile. As someone who never had many female friends, or really any friends in general, the feeling of one caring for her and being concerned was odd.

"Nice to see you too," She chuckled, and her throat hurt as she tried to speak. She croaked like a frog, her voice deep and scratchy.

"Don't ever worry me like that again! Seriously, I don't think I've slept for three days since it happened!" She exclaimed and gently pat her head with a cloth.

Three days? Lucy thought. Was she out for that long?

Quickly, Elsa got her a glass of water. The woman looked like she hadn't slept for days. Her beautiful hair was matted, and her eyes had dulled over, while dark bags hung underneath them.

Lucy took big sips of her water and nearly coughed it up. But she kept it down, desperate for it. "You should have slept," Lucy scowled her, feeling very motherly as she lectured her from her bed.

"How could I have?" Elsa asked with a shrug, her soft voice getting even meeker and quieter, "You're my only friend."

Lucy looked at the young woman and exchanged a soft smile with her. Elsa grabbed her hand and held it tightly. She looked relieved but also dead on her feet. She had been worried that her only friend would die after she was hauled in, a gaping hole in her side from a piece of shrapnel.

The wound wasn't anywhere near-fatal, as it turned out. It missed all the essential organs and wasn't as deep as it appeared to be. But she had lost a lot of blood, and it hurt like a bitch. Especially since she also hit her head quite badly after she fell. But she would be fine in the long run, and she was one of the doctors' and nurses' less pressing patients. But to keep her brain from swelling they kept her asleep for a couple of days, so her stitches could heal and also so her head injury wouldn't get any worse.

As Lucy laid there, slowly drinking water as not to choke on it again, a thought popped into her head. She gasped, terror filling her entire body. "Charles?! Where's Charles? Where is he?"

Elsa quickly answered, "He's alright! He's completely fine as well. He just got knocked unconscious in the explosion and had a little lump on the head. He has been here every day since, barely leaving your side except to eat. I finally sent him off to sleep and have a proper meal. He's devoted to you, that's for sure." Elsa laughed, and quickly walked around Lucy's side and grabbed and thermometer to take her temperature. "He's like a loyal lapdog."

So Charles was alright. Thank God, Lucy thought silently in relief. If anything happened to him, she would have never forgiven herself.

"Peggy was here also. When Charles was sleeping, she sat here with you and got work done." Elsa smiled, "She was quite worried as well. I don't think she has many friends either. We chatted quite a bit in between me having to care for my patients. You two are a lot alike." Elsa smiled as she wiped a bead of sweat off her brow.

She went around to another patient of her's a few beds over from Lucy and set the man's pillow up so he was more comfortable.

Lucy still found it difficult to speak, even after drinking water. She would have to continue listening to Elsa's cherry chatter. How that woman stayed so chipper after not sleeping for three days was beyond Lucy.

If Lucy had even a full night's sleep but missed her morning coffee, she was a nightmare still.

"Oh," Elsa perked up suddenly and had a mischievous smile on her face, "And," She added with a smirk, "A very handsome Sergeant was here visiting you."

Lucy frowned in confusion and she was about to ask who, when a thought popped into her head.

Bucky. He had told her to call him that.

She had thought he hated her. After all, she still partially hated him too. But he had been so concerned after she had been hit, and so sweet. He had tried to stop her bleeding, and had his voice faltering from… Perhaps fear?

That, of course, didn't make them friends or make like each other. But he was probably sick of seeing the people he knew around him die.

Lucy thought it impossible to have been him who visited her. "What did he look like?" God, her voice still sounded awful. It was hoarse and raspy from not using it for so many days.

Elsa sighed romantically, as though caught up in a ridiculous notion, "Like a daydream. He is very, very, handsome."

Lucy couldn't help but smile at the thought. She was almost in disbelief, not even thinking for a second that Sergeant Barnes—or Bucky, had been there to visit her.

"And he seemed very worried," Elsa's smirk grew even more, "Almost like he was sweet on you or something." Her girlish giggle was bright and happy. Once again, Lucy envied her cheeriness and the energy she had after working so long.

Lucy knew then she was lying. Bucky was not sweet on her. If anything, he was only worried because he felt responsible for her after everything had happened.

"It's a funny thought," Lucy sighed and didn't even really know how to react. All she knew was for the first time in a very long time, her heart fluttered hearing those words. "But he's not sweet on me." He's just a friend, she wanted to say,

But the truth was, Lucy wasn't even sure he was that. After all, it was only a few days ago that the two of them hated each other's guts.

However, something had changed. He had been so worried over top of her, flustered and frantic as he tried to stop the bleeding. They had teased one another, even as she was in pain and wounded.

Perhaps, they would get along better than she thought. But she didn't want to get her hopes up. After all, the man was still an ass.

But the kind of ass that was slightly charming. And well, he was undeniably handsome, that was for sure. And when he wasn't being a total jerk, he seemed smart and funny.

No. Lucy told herself, dead set on wanting to hate him. He was terrible and rude, and one of the worst people she had ever met.

But, he did save her… And their last few interactions, they had almost seemed to get along. He promised he would never rescue her, that he would leave her for dead. He didn't though, and he had stayed at her side and helped get her through her injury. He ever came to visit her in her sleep. To Lucy, it seemed like a bad man wouldn't do that.

She was conflicted, as it turned out, torn between disliking him and perhaps even being fond of him. However, Lucy didn't have time for that. A male figure walked in, and immediately his face lit up upon seeing her.

"Oh thank heavens and God almighty!" Charles exclaimed, his face reflecting a large smile. Lucy couldn't help but laugh at his theatrics as he raced over. It hurt her to laugh, but she couldn't help it.

"I was so worried about you! I don't even know what I'd do if you died! Do you think anyone around here wants an archaeologist's fat sidekick wandering around? God, no. I'd be thrown to the wolves." It was Charles way of saying he missed her, and that he had been concerned. She chuckled, and Elsa giggled at the amusing duo.

"I missed you as well." Lucy croaked, her voice still hurting. She drank another sip of water.

"Missed you?" Charles frowned, "Hardly, it was nice not having someone breathing down my neck every second of the day." The corners of his lips twisted in a smirk as he teased her. "While you were out I got a day off, believe it or not! Remember what those are, hmm, Doctor?"

"Days off? Days off are for weaklings and amateurs." She teased back.

"Nonsense," Elsa came over and handed Lucy another cup of water when she realized her's was empty, "Not too fast," She scolded her as Lucy began to chug. "The only day off he had was while he was here. Even while he was visiting, he was still filling out paperwork and doing research."

Charles had a guilty look on his face, and Lucy smiled softly. "You should have rested more." She told him, "You were hurt too."

"Just a teeny bump on the head is all." His hand went to where he received stitches just three days before. A small patch of hair was removed on the back of his head. He blushed at both Lucy and Elsa's concern. "Besides, I had to do what I could about that church…" He sighed and looked down tragically.

"Was it…?" Lucy didn't want to think about the lost context they could have gained and the hidden art and artifacts that could have rested there. She didn't want to think of how the Crusader church was gone, and possibly destroyed beyond repair.

Charles kept his eyes down, he only gave a sad nod, "It's gone, unfortunately. Nothing remained, and even if it did it's out of context and not worth recording."

"Damn it," Lucy hissed, and then closed her eyes. Not only had she not been fast enough to save the artifacts in the church, but she also hadn't gotten much further with Colonel Phillips mission regarding the Tesseract.

She had been at a standstill since she didn't have access to the ancient texts out where she was. However, she had written to a colleague, since she recalled seeing some information in a book once about one of the artifacts they were looking for. Information of the cult of Odin was in a Nordic book. If Lucy could have the pages sent to her and translated, she was sure she could likely find the location of which the strange mysterious Tesseract was found. The only problem was that it was in code. But, she knew a decryptor, who happened to be the best in the biz of figuring out ancient texts.

His name just so happened to be Charles Tennabum.

Lucy would have to wait patiently until the pages arrived, and then inform Charles of what was at hand when the time was right.

"At least they informed us of that one. There's been a couple of sites passed by that the men didn't think worth mentioning." She rolled her eyes in annoyance. Lucy bit her lip, and then tested the waters by casually switching the subject in a way she hoped Charles wouldn't notice too much. "At least Sergeant Barnes was kind enough to radio in the church. He seems to be coming around,"

Charles jaw tightened, and she saw how his face reflected anger upon hearing the man's name. "Hardly," He said in a bitter tone.

A few beds away, Elsa listened with open ears at the gossip that her two friends were discussing. She didn't mean to pry, but the last few days had been boring, and meddling was something she was known for. If there was one thing she was especially exceptional at, it was playing matchmaker.

"I doubt that man thinks of anyone or anything but himself." The way Charles spoke of him, Lucy realIzed that he might have disliked him just as much as she did a few days ago. "And I'm sure helping us is very low on his list of properties." Charles crossed his arms over his chest defensively. A permanent scowl was on his face as he spoke of Sergeant Barnes.

Lucy didn't know why she needed Charles' validation on the subject of Bucky. She had hoped he changed his mind about him and therefore would confirm it was okay for her to change her mind as well. "You know," She began tentatively, "He was the one that saved me."

Charles seemed taken off guard by her statement. He fidgeted in his seat, almost uncomfortably, "I'm sure it was somehow for his own benefit. Though, I couldn't say what for. As I said, he's a despicable man and I don't think he thinks about anyone but himself."

Lucy pursed her lips together. Across the infirmary, she made eye contact with Elsa. They exchanged a look, and it was clear that her friend was interested in the interaction happening. Lucy was suddenly confused, torn between what her two friends were telling her. She wanted to believe that perhaps she had misunderstood Sergeant Barnes — Bucky. But on the other hand, she also still believed in what Charles said. "Elsa said he was here," She swallowed a lump in her throat as she spoke. She wasn't sure why that sentence terrified her or held some power over her. It did, and for some reason unknown to her, She hoped Elsa was right and Charles wasn't. "That he came to visit me."

Charles stiffened again, and snapped quickly, scoffing, "He stopped by for a moment. He was here to see another one of the men in his division who had also gotten injured. He may have wandered by the see if you were alright, but believe me when I say he made no special trips. I was here the entire time."

Across the tent, Elsa remained quiet, although all she wanted to do was speak up.

Lucy's heart sank ever so slightly, which confused her even more, "Oh," Was the only thing she breathed out.

"Lucy, I know you want to see the best in people," Charles said, and for the first time perhaps ever, he used her name instead of her professional title. It meant he was talking to her as a friend, not as his boss. Although, Lucy would have argued with that statement. She didn't often search out and expect the best of people. In her experiences, people were usually pretty shitty. "And thinking he can be anything but selfish is likely what you would like… But I don't think it's true. It's best if we don't intermix. You and I stick to what we know, and we let everyone else keep to themselves. Especially the ones who hinder our work, and don't give two shits about what we're doing." Charles urged. Lucy couldn't help but notice the destain in his voice and how he spoke with a tone of sharpness behind his words.

"You're right." She couldn't help but admit.

Elsa had to bite her cheek to keep from intervening. She did so hard enough to draw blood, but she wouldn't say anything. At least, she thought, not yet…


Oh my, I wonder what Elsa plans on talking to Lucy about? Also, what little chat Bucky plans on having with Gilbert...? The next chapters is very, very well done if I do say so myself. I'm so unbelievably excited to share what I have in store for you. Now that Bucky recognizes Lucy, it's about to get a whole lot better ;)

I've recently added this story to Archive of Our Own if anyone prefers to read this pic on another platform. Likely, I'll be updating this one first, but I just thought I should let you all know regardless.

Thank you again. Please leave a review if you liked this chapter. And don't forget to follow and favourite for faster updates ;)

-Amelia